No One's Savior
by Rose du Nuit
Summary: Harry saves Draco's life. Massive stuff happens. SLASH!
1. No One's Savior

Summary: Harry saves Draco's life, mass of stuff ensues.  
Author's Note: Harry and Draco do not belong to me. *sobs* However, this  
story does. Please don't take it without asking.  
  
Chapter One  
  
Harry was lying in the Hospital Wing, unconscious. Hermione and Ron had  
left side and departed nearly two days ago. But Draco remained by his side,  
leaving only for his classes. He slept, ate, and studied in the chair  
beside Harry's bed.  
Draco was now curled up in the chair, reading the play Macbeth for Muggle  
Studies. A sudden rustle of Harry's sheet caused Draco's head to snap up,  
hope evident in his eyes. But Harry was only thrashing about in his  
comatose sleep. Disappointed, Draco's gaze fell back to the pages of the  
ancient book.  
Harry thrashed about in his bed again, this time calling out, "No. No! I'm  
no one's savior! No one's savior."  
Suddenly, Harry's thrashings intensified to such a degree that Draco  
thought he would surely toss himself off the bed. Draco quickly stood, his  
book falling to the floor. Calling for Madame Pomfery, he laid a hand on  
Harry's shoulder to try to calm him. The dark-haired boy swatted at Draco's  
hand.  
Draco pulled his hand back shouting, "Madame Pomfery!"  
There had been a large lump on Harry's shoulder. A lump like that of a bee  
sting or bug bite, only larger.  
Madame Pomfery came bursting into the cubicle, wearing her bathrobe. "What  
is it Mr. Mal -" She suddenly caught sight of the tossing Harry. "Good  
lord." she gasped.  
Draco was practically sobbing. His father was still a Death Eater; his  
father had lied to him; his father had been there. Madame Pomfery placed a  
comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. "It's only a seizure. He will be  
alright when he awakes."  
Draco shook his head. "It is not just a seizure."  
"Mr. Malfoy, I have medical training. I believe I know more about this than  
you."  
"Madame Pomfery, I am the son of a Death Eater. I believe I know more about  
their tactics than you."  
"Well, then," Pomfery huffed, "as you know so much more than I do, what is  
making him like this?"  
"A potion mixture."  
"What potion mixture? And how do you know?"  
"I don't think it actually has a name, but I do know what's in it, and the  
proportions. Veritiserum, wine, and Draft of the Living Dead. One half  
Living Dead, and one quarter of each of the others."  
"How do you know?"  
"I saw my father use it on my little sister once. It - it killed her,"  
Draco sobbed.  
"Does it have an anti-toxin?"  
"Yes. The same ingredients. Two-thirds wine, nine-sixths Veritiserum, three-  
sixths Living Dead. It must be applied to the skin where the original  
potion was injected."  
"Are you certain?"  
Draco nodded.  
"I shall contact Professor Snape immediately."  
She tuned and almost from the infirmary. Draco dropped his gaze back to  
Harry, who had calmed down considerably, and let his tears flow.  
Madame Pomfery soon returned with Snape and the potion. "You're certain of  
this?" she asked one last time, picking up a pad of gauze from the medicine  
cabinet nearby.  
"Yes," Draco replied. "You need to smear it on all of the gauze," he added  
watching her.  
Once she had smeared one side with the creamy potion, she asked Draco,  
"Where was it injected?"  
"His right shoulder."  
Draco bent and carefully unbuttoned Harry's pajama top and slipped his  
right arm from the sleeve. Snape and Madame Pomfery gasped. There was a  
massive welt on Harry's shoulder that was obviously caused by an injection.  
Draco took the potion-covered gauze from Madame Pomfery and laid it over  
the peak of the festered welt, smoothing it out against Harry's feverish  
skin. "In a day or two - maybe three - he should wake up, but he will still  
need the potion applied twice a day, or he will relapse."  
Easter break started the next day, so Draco was able to stay by Harry's  
side and watch his progress. He would not allow Madame Pomfery to dress  
Harry's shoulder; he had to be the one to do it. That Saturday, two days  
after the first application of the anti-toxin, while Draco was redressing  
Harry's shoulder, he noticed that, though the swelling was down, the skin  
on Harry's shoulder remained a smoldering temperature. Draco brushed  
Harry's cheek with the back of his hand. "Oh, Harry," he sighed, "why did  
you have be so heroic?" Harry stirred, but his eyes did not open, nor did  
his breathing change. "Had you not stepped in, they would have given me  
this poison. And the world would have been better off, for I am no one's  
hero." Wit these words, Draco remembered Harry's protestations from a few  
days before. Had these been his cries to the Death Eaters after Draco had  
been knocked out? "Harry," Draco sighed.  
Once more, Harry stirred. He reached up with one hand and covered Draco's.  
Yet, his eyes remained closed. Odd, Draco thought. Perhaps the sleeping  
potion is beginning to wear off. Draco smoothed out the gauze bandage over  
the reduced welt before curling up in his chair with Macbeth.  
"Double, double  
Toil and trouble  
Fire burn and cauldron bubble?" Draco skeptically said, aloud. "There's no  
way that could be part of making a potion; you don't need incantations to  
make a potion."  
"That's not necessarily true."  
Hearing Harry's voice, Draco jumped up and rushed to the side of Harry's  
bed. "Harry! You're awake!"  
"Really?" Harry asked, his voice filled with sarcasm, "I thought I was  
still asleep."  
"Sarcasm now is not funny, especially not on that mater," Draco replied  
seriously.  
"Why?" Harry asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.  
"You've been unconscious for almost a week."  
They were silent for a while, only staring into each other's eyes  
Both saw relief and gratitude there. Draco reached out and brushed Harry's  
bangs from his eyes. "Harry," he sighed, "why did you risk your life to  
save mine?"  
"Because, I - " Harry had been on the verge of revealing his feelings for  
Draco, when Ron and Hermione stepped into the cubicle.  
"Malfoy," Ron sneered. "Come to finish what your father's friends started?"  
"Hardly, Weasely," Draco's usual malice was absent from his reply. "Though  
my father is a Death Eater, I am not."  
"And you expect us to believe that?" Ron snorted.  
"Yes."  
"Why else would a group of Death Eaters be trying to kill him?" Harry  
asked.  
"You're awake!" Ron gasped.  
"No shit, Sherlock."  
"Who's Sherlock?"  
Harry opened his mouth to explain, but found Draco had already launched  
into the explanation. "Sherlock Holms was a fictional detective created by  
Sir Arthur Conan Doyal, a Muggle author. He was supposed to be the best  
detective of all time."  
Ron's mouth hung agape, "How did you know that?"  
"We had to read Hound of the Baskervilles for Muggle Studies," Hermione  
answered him.  
"You're taking Muggle Studies?" Ron stared bewildered at Draco.  
"Yes. Now if you would leave, Harry and I need to talk - alone."  
Ron glared at the tall blonde, then turned on his heal and stormed out of  
the infirmary, and Hermione followed.  
"Harry, why did you save my life?" Draco asked for the second time.  
"No one deserves the cruciatus curse, or Avada Kedavra."  
"That's why I blacked out?"  
Harry nodded. "You're the second to survive it, you know? You didn't get a  
cool scare, though," Harry joked, lightening the mood.  
"I'm not so sure about that," Draco breathed, still gazing into Harry's  
eyes.  
"What do you mean?"  
"You gave me a scar that will never go away." Draco took one of Harry's  
hands and placed it over his heart. "You may tihnk you're no one's savior,  
but you are mine."  
Harry sat up, pulling Draco's head down. Their lips met in a chaste kiss,  
The sensation of their lips touching was enough to make their breath catch  
in their throats. When they pulled away, Draco still held Harry's left hand  
against his chest. Harry yawned and laid back into his pillow. "I'm tired,  
Draco," he said, closing his eyes.  
Draco gently laid Harry's arm on he bed and sat back down with Macbeth. He  
began reading to himself, 'Double, double,  
Toil and trouble.' he couldn't concentrate. Harry was getting better wasn't  
he? What was all that about possible needing an incantation for a potion?  
Draco set the book down on he bedside table and curled up in the chair for  
another night. 


	2. Dreaming Town

Chapter Two ~ dreaming town  
  
Harry stood in shadow watching the small group of Death Eaters crowd  
together in a circle. Who, or what, was in the middle of that circle? Two  
more black-robes figures approached. Crabbe, Jr. stepped out of the  
formation. "My Lord," he bowed slightly, "we have caught the spy." He  
sneered in the direction of the circle's center.  
Those who had formed the circle now backed up, revealing a crouching form  
in heir midst. One of the new arrivals hissed and drew back his hood  
revealing golden-white hair flowing down his back. "Son?" he hissed.  
The cowering figure shifted slightly, but did not look up as he trembled,  
"F-father."  
Harry knew that voice, but it seemed different, maybe it wasn't.  
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Draco!" Harry gasped. It was. "Or  
should I say Dracona? You're such a sissy-girl." Lucius kicked Draco in the  
ribs; Harry could hear Draco suck in a sharp breath. "I told you to look at  
me, boy!"  
Slowly, Draco's platinum blonde hair came into view. "Now, before you die,  
you will endure pain." The hate in Lucius' voice was overwhelming as he  
drew his wand and sneered, "Cruciatus."  
Draco's scream pierced the night air as he writhed on the ground.  
"That's enough, Malfoy!" Harry heard himself cry out as he lunged at the  
tall blonde.  
"What's this?" Voldemort snarled. "Harry Potter saving the life of a Death  
Eater's son? My, my, my, will miracles never cease?"  
"Only the day you die," Harry sneered, pushing himself from the ground,  
standing over Lucius Malfoy's dead body, the older man's blood, stained  
Harry's clothes and pooled on the ground.  
"Well, since you seem to wish to save this young rebel, there's really only  
one thing I can do," Voldemort said, almost remorsefully.  
In a flash, his wand had spurted green light all over the clearing and  
Draco fell backwards. Harry rushed to the blonde's side, whispering, "I  
love you, Draco."  
No one heard these simple words; only Harry knew they had been spoken. Two  
of the Death Eaters grabbed Harry's arms, wrenching his shoulders as they  
pulled him to his feet. There was a sudden, searing pain in his right  
shoulder. Harry gasped as his blood, seemingly, turned to liquid fire.  
"We will collect their corpses tomorrow," Harry heard Voldemort hiss, as he  
felt himself loose consciousness.  
A few hours later, Harry awoke with Voldemort's promise to return playing  
in his head. He dragged himself to his feet, determined that he would not  
let Voldemort mutilate Draco's dead body. As Harry stepped closer, he  
noticed the blonde boy was breathing. Harry gasped as he crumbled to his  
knew before the angelic figure. He brushed a strand of blonde satin away  
from Draco's eyes. Slowly, Harry hooked an arm under Draco's knees, and  
wrapped the other around his shoulders.  
Harry's lifted the unconscious Slytherin and carried him out of the  
Forbidden Forest and into the hospital Wing, where he collapsed as well. 


	3. Thank You For My Life

Chapter Three  
  
Harry and Draco awoke at the same time. They gazed into each other's eyes  
and knew they had had the same dream, and one soul-searching examination of  
Harry's eyes told Draco it was Harry's memory of that night.  
Harry was shaking - cold and hot at the same time - fear overwhelming him.  
Did Draco know he had killed Lucius? What would he do if he did know?  
Draco stood and slowly climbed into Harry's bed, wrapping his arms around  
the Gryffindor. Harry snuggled into Draco's shoulder, sobbing softly. Draco  
rubbed Harry's back and nuzzled his head in an attempt to comfort him.  
"Draco, I killed him," Harry sobbed.  
"Voldemort?" Draco asked hopefully.  
"No," Harry drew in a deep breath. "Your father."  
"I don't care."  
"You must have some feelings about it."  
"That's what I had thought. But when you bashed his head against that rock,  
I felt nothing at all. And when I woke up, I thought and thought, and I  
prayed, but still, I didn't feel a thing."  
They were silent as Draco held Harry, calming his fears.  
"Draco?" Harry asked suddenly.  
"Yes?"  
"Did - did you tell Madame Pomfery what they had done to me? Or was I  
dreaming?"  
"I told her. Why?"  
"You could have been expelled you know? Veritiserum mixed with Draft of the  
Living Dead is obviously a dark mixture."  
"Snape was a Death Eater. He knew I knew it form my father. He also knew I  
was spying."  
"Then I have you to thank for my life. "Harry pulled his head up from  
Draco's shoulder and pressed their lips together. "Thank you, my savior,"  
Harry murmured as they pulled apart.  
~  
Finis 


End file.
